


Original/Non-Fandom Discord Prompts

by kelex



Series: Discord Prompts [2]
Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 04:28:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17358965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelex/pseuds/kelex
Summary: Original/Non-fandom drabbles/prompts written from prompts on my Discord server(s).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As these are non-fandom/non-specific characters, make sure you read each chapter's summary to decide if it's something you're interested in. At the moment, the archive warnings do not apply, but if they do in the future, I'll edit it and make sure to note it.

Prompt: Bewitched

"Earth, air, fire, water, lord of four we beseech thee. We offer to you earth, from the grave of a child, for your rebirth. We offer you the breath of our bodies, for your life. We offer you the water from the sea, for your peace. We offer you the flame of lightning captured, for your power. Let these offerings be proof of our obedience, come inhabit the vessel and make your words flesh. Lord of Four, our will is yours."

Around the altar, a ring of green-robed figures bent their heads and placed their hands on the still body. At their touch, the body on the altar jerked once and sat up straight. All the assembly fell to their knees in violent joy as the Lord of Four rose before them.


	2. Prompt: Consistency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: consistency (vague mentions of experimentation on people)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild mentions of interrogation and experimentation. nothing graphic in the least, it's more musing on the general subject. But, some folks find it problematic so I'm warning for it.

Routine was... difficult. Time was a factor, yes, but established patterns led to expectations, not anticipation. And without anticipation, fear of the unknown lost its edge. And what good would come from the one who anticipated pain? None. Because what one imagined was by several degrees worse than could actually be inflicted. Therefore was consistency the enemy of interrogation, or the aid of it?

It was exhausting to think about it, but necessary for scheduling purposes. Perhaps this could be the next experiment, finding a pair of twins as a starting point, and subject them to the same procedures, with the sole variable being consistent timing versus random. 

The result would be fascinating, to say the least.


	3. Prompt: Sticks and Stones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sticks and Stones. Set during the Salem Witch Trials, or something similar.

The familiar childhood rhyme skipped through the flickering of panic. Sharpened bamboo stakes had grown through her hands and ankles, a slow and bone-crushing ache that was almost ignorable. Almost.

But the platform on her chest helped. One large boulder for each week she had refused to confess sat on the wooden platform, bearing down on her. She'd been given bread for the first day, but nothing after. The suffocating pressure grew worse every time she drew breath, hitching little noises that felt like her ribs were broken and pressing into her lungs.

The Procter bent low to address her. "Confess ye to thy sins and thou shalt be granted a merciful and true death," he offered for what they both knew was the last time. 

Marie used her last breath. "Sticks and stones... break my bones, words can never harm me."


	4. Prompt: Bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Bone (mentions of murder, mentions of F/F)

The long ivory expanse was perfectly shaped, rounded around the edges where the hip and shin had worn grooves into the joint. The width was a bit disappointing, but splitting it down the center and stuffing it with leather scrap would fix that, then seal it back with silicone before carving ought to do the trick. Delicate swoops of the fillet knife left behind ornamental swirling almost indistinguishable from the striation of tree bark. Potassium permanganate, a little boric acid, and a tea bath later, and the knife hilt no longer resembled bare bone at all. Affixing the blade was the work of minutes, and she smiled to herself. This was going to be a very lucrative partnership, so long as her girlfriend kept her in body parts.


	5. Prompt: Purple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Purple

Light spilled through dusky clouds, turning the sky into a shadowy bruise that stretched across the horizon. Indigo shaded the clouds as it grew darker, but the moon provided almost no light. Fires slowly flickered to life, columns of smoke carrying prayers and sacrifices heavenward. Wine flowed like water, staining lips and skin the color of grapes and barley. Flowing tresses were crowned with grapevine and hyacinths, bodies adorned with daubings of mud and dyes. The twilight bled across the lands, coloring everything in the hues of royalty. It was the feast of Gaia, and the children were dancing for mother.


	6. Prompt: unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't find the original prompt that went with this! But let's assume it was something angelic or demonic, because that's what's going on here.

She cut through the heavenly mass like a knife through butter; effortlessly and gliding. Her feet hit the floor with the sharp click of heels on tile, sounding like the rat-a-tat of a machine gun mowing down the angels in her path. Black wings draped behind her, feathers fluffed and ruffled as they stood at attention. The black lace trailed behind her, offsetting her pale skin and blood-red lips. No one got in her way as she made her way to the vacant throne, and then sat down on it, crossing her legs at the knee and letting the black lace fall away to showcase bare legs and black pumps. "There's a new bitch in charge," she said with a grin, and clapped her hands once. A flood of demonic energy swirled as pillars of black smoke coalesced into people, wings splayed wide as they outnumbered the angels nearly a dozen to one. "That's Miss Bitch to you."


End file.
